


Through the cracks...

by Kasan_Soulblade



Category: Portal (Video Game), WALL-E (2008)
Genre: AU, Friendship, Gen, Space meeting humans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/pseuds/Kasan_Soulblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An odd portal/Walle crossover that wouldn't leave me alone one night.</p><p>A meeting of the minds.  Or rather of circuitry and wetware.  Results not guaranteed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the cracks...

Axiom’s log, an auto encrypted by Auto itself, was little more than a slew of zeros and ones. Daily events that were immortalized in the mind of one, save immortality was limited in the form of bytes and when their outermost edge of storage was nearly reached a few gigas were dropped and newest entry replaced the oldest thus equilibrium was maintained.

As for the Captain, and the crew, well it was an auto feature of the ship, this shuffling of data. The lightening of a few zero and ones was something the system simply did without input of anyone. Because the feature was a necessity of function it was done without comment, had been sense launch, and thus slowly and surly the Protocol was upheld and eventually would simply not need to be anymore.

Day by day, the data of Earth was wiped away. Every system refresh and redundant data purge made sure of it.

Time of completion estimate, twenty five centuries (any faster and the curious might investigate, and curiosity was counterproductive to the Protocol) though the flesh bound with their mere decades to life would have found the means plodding Auto simply adhered to the steps that would make the end goal possible and waited.

The latest day (though the human called Captain may tick afternoon to morning via the time alteration tool upon his desk in some effort to save face it was day, the degree of that day was irrelevant it simply was) started with the usual scramble that marked oversleeping. Again, considering it was day and the degree was such a small number, (merely a few hundred minutes off the mark) such scrambling which only served to push the Captain’s heart rate to excessive heights and set his Big ‘N’ Save hover chair tech to spit a few sparks until he settled went beyond silly into dangerous.

Thus Auto commented upon these adverse effects as he saw them. Ignoring the glare his factual recounting of the unnecessary activities effects dredged and was in turn ignored as he rattled off the dangers (“You could be singed, the chair could fail, and extraction was so painful for you last time”).

Thus both went on their way for a little while, a few feet apart but were fully ignorant of what the other was doing.

It was only the theatrics of the afternoon that wasn’t that the captain was perfectly positioned to notice something that would have been handled by the auto settings.

Because, unlike the other passengers who were bogged down with chatter screens of closest acquaintances filling up the spaces of air both left and right and the fore was a narrow track dictated by the path the chair was locked into at the moment he had a task to do. A set of head phones snapped over his ears and he was immersed in the silence of nothing, the sloshing hush of space that he’d no intention of overriding with whatever Big ‘N Save jingle because doing so meant asking Auto.

And he wasn’t going to ask Auto anything right now.

So he didn’t, and because he didn’t the silence of space wasn’t broken by jingles and his off tune hum-alongs he heard it.

In one word he had the answer to the age old question of why did the stars twinkle?

(They flinched, from the shrillness of that voice’s wailing)

“SPAAAACE”

“What in the Biggest Saver’s name?” The Captain spoke, yelled really, ripping off the device to preserve what hearing he had left because of the headphones had been preset to a level that made simple wailing a titanic booming.

“Auto, get a track on… well whatever that thing was…. Is it coming towards us?”

Stories of episode past made him want to say something about protons, lasers, but he had no more data than that and the whim passed without making much impact. What was in its place was confusion. Because from his place on the deck he could see Auto was doing something, he just wasn’t sure what but it looked a little like a camera that was pointing out, as in not at a friend in speaker visual mode and it had something round bobbing… bopping against the steel of the hull.

Well that answered why it’d been so loud, from Auto’s screen it was right against one of the ships outer audio readers.

“Auto?”

The wheel ringed eye flicked from him to screen, then finally twirled on its steel neck to better look at the captain and block the screen all in one go. Frowning the pudgy man waited for the explanation, that cool toned accumulation of facts that would fix everything. When Auto didn’t say anything, simply stared the man spoke, though his mouth was dry and voice a bit cracked.

“Is… is someone... well… knocking on our door?”

A few clicks, a whirl, some process being reached. Finally in that familiar frigid voice the obvious was said “The hull isn’t a door.”

The Captain wasn’t soothed though, only bothered, there was the wail of “SPAACE Owch owies! Need SOFTER SPACIES!” coming from the device in his lap and a firm tap tapping from the screen behind Auto that was some fragment of a second disjointed from the wailing in his lap.

“I think he wants in.”

Silence, no whirl or click, at least until the Captain set his chair to forward and inched by the still machine and reached forward to expand the holo-screen behind Auto, that made Auto soundlessly wheel back. A few clicks, lessons learned on reading the screens because while Auto could do everything and should it was nice to read along sometimes the Captain smiled. A solution found.

“Look look, its right by the outside extraction hatch!” He’d of bounced, might of if he were young, as he wasn’t he simple kicked his feet and smiled his widest. “We can let it in.”

Looking down from his perch of steel, amongst the shadows, Auto said nothing. Did nothing.

Code rattled in his head, compared scenario to programming to Protocol.

Finding no conflict he did nothing as the human huffed about how he had to do everything himself and set the emergency exit’s shoot towards open, letting the little squalling ball in.

In a tone as close to wry as he was allowed Auto drawled. “I’ve dispatched cleaning bots oh oh one and oh oh two to the… extraction site, is that satisfactory?”

“Oh, that’s fine… wouldn’t want to get space germs or something. That’s great Auto, you’re the greatest.”

Argument forgotten, so quickly and surely, such was the quirk of working with the organic, Auto did not accept the roundabout apology or praise, simply returning to codex cleaning more fitting to upholding the Protocol.

“I’ll see you later.” So cheered the Captain, wheeling out at as quick a clip as his ailing tech would allow.

So immersed in his file tidying Auto never looked down to see which shoot the Captain had taken, or that his out was pointed towards the retrieval station.


End file.
